Control
by Akima DM
Summary: Trowa has conflicting views of himself built upon who he has become. During a fight, he comes to grips with everything and decides to take control of his future once and for all. Slight HeeroTrowa.


Hey, Everyone! This is my second fanfic, and I have no clue why I'm writing it. I actually wrote it a few years ago when I was feeling depressed and such. Now, I'm no better...in fact I'm feeling worse. That is why I plan to write this rather depressing fanfic. Who knows? Maybe I'll even write a few chapters after this peace. After all, I can't stand leaving people in the dumps. So sit back and enjoy!

'Blah' Thoughts

"Blah" Speech

'I couldn't understand it myself. I was pathetic, pitiful. What human creation was I? I wasn't a Gundam Pilot; I was a mistake. The Doctors were wrong...I don't deserve...I deserve...nothing.'

'That's what I am, nothing.'

The ship screeched and cracked, the winds of space tearing the Gundanium apart. Trowa growled, slamming his fists against the motherboard of the already flashing screen. "Damn it!"

The Oz mobile dolls swooped over Heavy Arms. It was no use. The Gundam was completely out of ammo, and already the protective layers of metal were peeling off in the heat of the explosions. It was done. He was done.

Trowa rested his head against his hand, letting his hair shade the view of space...and the deadly mobile dolls quickly approaching.

Both of Trowa's eyes were glowing. Heavy Arm's screen flashed in defiance. Trowa's were shining for a different reason. The light of the flames sparkled in his emerald gaze.

'I won't allow tears. I'm not worth them.'

His hands tightened; and he scratched his face, drawing thin lines of blood to drip down his cheeks.

'Don't cry, you're not worth it.'

He choked, coughing up blood. A few tears prickled down his face. Why was he crying? He could hear the mobile dolls, gliding slowly through space. They knew the scent of a dead animal.

'Look up at least. Where's your pride?'

"They're going to kill me," he said, slowly tilting his head up. His eyes shone in the glare of burning carnage and machinery. He smiled chillingly. "That's not very nice of them."

The mobile dolls moved closer, taking their time.

....They were not going to kill him.

"I'm sorry, Heavy Arms," Trowa began, his eyes flaring with brief kindness for his suit, "but I can't die this way, _their _way."

Trowa carefully lifted the glass casing off a side panel. The self-destruct button shone innocently at its pilot. The ominous end, the RIGHT way to die.

What crap.

'This is nuts!' A voice persisted in his head. 'You can walk away; you can live. You know how good you are at fighting, at figuring things out. You already have half a plan formulated. Get OUT of there!'

"What would be the point?"

All of Trowa's opinions fell silent, staring at him in horror.

He shrugged, smiling a bit. "Think about it...why should I stay? There is nothing for me here. Quatre...Quatre has Dorothy. He no longer has time for me. I've already ruined Cathy's life, and I _know _I should leave her alone. Though it's not like I can have a future with her anyway...."

A voice swallowed. 'Heero?' it offered tentatively.

Trowa hesitated, a look of pain crossing his face. "I...I lost him a long time ago." The tears that he had worked so hard to repress leaked out from his eyes.

"And I don't care anymore!!" He screamed in fury. "I just don't care! I'm not doing this for anyone. I'm doing this for me. I'm tired. Don't you understand that?!? I'm TIRED and lonely..." He stopped, shocked at himself, at what he was saying. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"It just doesn't matter anymore."

Trowa smiled bitterly. It was all too much, the quiet, this end, the way time was standing still for him...just for him.

He started to laugh then, low at first but louder until it scratched across space. He laughed as blood spilled from his lips. Scarlet tainting the aqua glass in front of his eyes. Trowa grabbed his side and winced in pain. The Voices in his head looked at him with pity. Good Gods, what had happened to their boy?

"So, Trowa rasped out, "I am nothing." Blood and tears dripped down his body. "I am nothing but what others want. I try to please, I..." He stopped, shuddering as the laughter left him. He peered wearily out at the mobile dolls, ignoring their orders to surrender.

He took the final step, the step no opinion of him, from him, expected.

"I'm right....that's all I am. I..." His voice faltered.

"I'm right."

He smiled and pressed the button.


End file.
